


Killer Case

by allonsysilvertongue



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Hayffie AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 19:59:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4535349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsysilvertongue/pseuds/allonsysilvertongue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Effie Trinket had just lost her case to the FBI and she was adamant that she should have some part in its investigation.</p><p>Hayffie AU in which Haymitch is an FBI agent and Effie is a detective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Killer Case

** Killer Case **

Haymitch had just uncapped his bottle and was about to bring it to his lips when he paused, listening to the two sharp knocks on his front door. He waited for it to go away. Instead, he heard the door open followed by the clicking of heels against his floor.

He hung his head and let out of breath. Gripping tight the neck of the bottle, Haymitch moved out of the kitchen to greet the unwelcomed visitor.

“It’s my case,” she snapped angrily without any sort of greeting.

He smirked in amusement, crossing his arm and leaning against the kitchen door. He watched as she unwound the scarf around her neck, revealing the cleavage that was so clearly visible in that tight red dress she was wearing tonight.

 _Undercover assignment,_ his brain supplied.

“Are you listening to me, Agent Abernathy? It’s _my_ case and you took it right from under my nose!”

“Agent?” he scoffed. “You forgotten my name or somethin’, sweetheart?”

“I want some answers.”

Haymitch scowled. Her demanding attitude and her intrusion into his home was beginning to irritate him.

“It wasn’t my choice to make, _Detective Trinket,_ ” he mocked. “You no longer have jurisdiction over the case so the FBI took over. It’s as simple as that.”

“I had jurisdiction until the FBI came swooping in like vultures.”

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “this case is bigger than you think.”

“Funny because you said the same thing for the three other cases you wrestled from me,” she pursed her lips.

“And each time, it’s the truth,” he raised his voice, finally losing his temper.

To her credit, Effie didn’t flinch. It was one of the reasons he found himself attracted to her. She stood up to him and she matched his snark with equal wit, and he enjoyed it but not tonight. Tonight, she was getting on his nerves.

Haymitch had looked forward to spending the night with a bottle of whiskey. He needed it. The images of the children’s corpses were seared into his mind and he needed something to rid the images.

Although, he thought, as he eyed her, there were other ways to distract himself.

“How big?” she demanded. “It’s a dead child – why is the case of any interest to the FBI?”

He changed his mind. He had no desire to deal with her even if the prospect of sex was very appealing. He had no idea why she still insisted on coming over and asking him the same questions she had asked three occasions before. This wasn’t the first time they had this conversation over jurisdiction to investigate a case.

Each time their path crossed, it seemed as if there was a unwritten consensus for them to _always_ disagree with each other even if in the end, they both wanted the same outcome.

“Can’t tell you,” he shook his head. “The case is under investigation.”

“Which should have been my investigation,” she counted. “That child died in the Capitol. _My_ city, _my_ jurisdiction! Really, Haymitch, it’s that simple.”

“You’ve got a point, sweetheart, but he ain’t the only child, is he? There are others.”

She blinked at him and then rallied herself. “Yes, there were others; a girl, just six months ago. The wounds look similar, that’s about it. There are no other connections to link them to each other. The FBI cannot just waltz into this and take it from us.”

“We can and we have. You have no idea what you’re dealing with, Effie.”

The rare use of her name tempered the fire in her soul. She softened slightly. “Then tell me.”

“You know I can’t.”

Effie took a step forward and it was enough to breach his personal space, a fact she seemed to ignore. Resting her palm against his cheek, she brushed her thumb against his skin, softly and gently.

“You know I won’t tell anyone,” she said quietly. “We’ve known each other for years, Haymitch.”

It was almost embarrassing the way leaned into her touch and reached up to hold her hand. She took it as a positive sign to close the distance between them, kissing him lightly on his lips.

“Nobody knows I’m here. Nobody needs to know where I got my information,” she assured him. “What am I dealing with, Haymitch?”

Still, he kept his mouth firmly shut. His hand went to her waist, holding her to him. His thumb caressed her hip bone and he dipped his head to capture her lips. She moved her head back and he groaned.

“Do you need a little encouragement before you tell me something?” her eyes twinkled with amusement. “I just want a _real_ explanation why I’m no longer in charge of the case. That’s all.”

Haymitch chuckled and rested his forehead against her.

“Why must you be so bloody difficult?”

“I thought you like your women difficult?” she teased and then she looped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

He responded to it, kissing and biting on her lower lip. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck and he felt his resolve slowly crumbling. Was he to be blamed?  He hadn’t seen her in four months and his right hand was nothing compared to her.

This was how they were. They would argue over a case and they would end up over some furniture or pressed against the wall, screaming each other’s name in ecstasy. It was always the same rhythm, the same music.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

He did, too, not that he would ever admit it out loud and let her know that. His hand slid to her back, pulling on the zip of her tight dress. He had wanted her out of the red dress from the moment she stepped inside his house. He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to look this sexy for an undercover work even if it was warranted. He just couldn’t stomach the idea of anyone pawing at her.

When he pushed the offending garment from her shoulders insistently, Effie groaned into his mouth. The dress pooled around her ankle and she daintily stepped out of it. Haymitch pressed her to him, nipping on her neck and her shoulder before he buried his face against her breasts, inhaling the smell of her skin.

“Haymitch,” she moaned throatily when his tongue swirled over her nipple.

Her hand reached for the buckle of his belt and made short work of it, pulling his boxers down at the same time.

The draft of cool air against his skin made him suck in a breath. He pushed her until she hit the back of a sofa and then he flipped her so that she was bent forward over at the waist. His hand slid roughly under the black lace, calloused palm against her smooth skin and Effie shuddered. He touched her between her legs to feel her already so warm and wet for him. His pulse raced in excitement.

“Is this what you had in mind when you came here lookin’ for a fight, sweetheart?” he whispered in her arm, his tongue darting out to lick and suck on her earlobe. “You want me to bend you over and fuck you?”

“Language! Must you always be so crude?” she tutted.

She wasn’t fooling him. Her breathing was laboured and he knew that this turned her on just as much as it did for him. She was always chiding him for his language but when they were intimate together and each time he happened to talk dirty, she would moan his name louder.

“You must know it’s no use. The case’s ours, sweetheart.”

“We can work together,” she panted when he slipped a finger inside. “We’re good at – “

“Nah, we’re only good working _on_ each other not with each other,” he chuckled, curling his finger.

Effie pursed her lips and pulled his finger. It came out wet and slick with her essence. She spun around and glared at him. Unperturbed and almost mocking in his way, Haymitch licked his finger clean.

“I always get what I want one way or another. Now,” her eyes dropped to his crotch, taking him in and then she smirked. “Let’s just forget about work for a moment, Haymitch. Please.”

Haymitch never had the time to say anything in reply because she dropped to her knees and took him in her mouth. He grabbed her hair roughly, lust clouded eyes fluttering close.

When he first met her eight years ago at a crime scene, he never thought the uptight, strict woman who followed everything by the book was capable of doing wondrous things with her tongue. But she quickly prove that behind closed doors, she was another person altogether.

His fingers gripped her hair as she sucked him, the other hand clenching tight the back of the sofa. His eyes flew open at the loss of contact when she suddenly slid him out of her mouth. Haymitch waited to see if she had some other tricks but she merely looked up at him, a coy smile on her lips.

Her thumb graze his head, smearing the little bit of liquid over it. “Why don’t you watch me?” she suggested.

He drew in a sharp breath. The very idea nearly made him lose control so instead of doing as she asked, he grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. This woman would be the death of him.

“Bedroom, now,” he growled.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs immediately around his waist. He kissed her hard and carried her into his bedroom where they fell into his bed. Haymitch pinned her to the mattress, kissing her from her lips down to her stomach and leaving goosebumbs in his wake. He was hard; aching and throbbing with need but he wanted to work her up and wound her. So he kissed her everywhere except where she truly wanted to be touched and kissed.

Impatient, Effie wriggled out from under him and seized his momentary confusion to manoeuvre their position so she was on top.

He scowled. He wanted to be in control but Effie always knew what she wanted, how she wanted it and she was not afraid to take it. This attitude applied in the workplace and in the bedroom.

His head was spinning with desire. His eyes were hazy with lust. His entire body was thrumming and alive with the thought of what she was capable of now that she was on top and in control.

Sex with Effie was always a quick fumble so this was new to them. This was the first time they had actually made it to bed.

Effie rested her hands on his chest and his breath caught in his throat. He stared at her naked form. Without thinking twice, his hands latched onto her breasts, kneading and squeezing it. She threw her head back. It wasn’t long before his hands were running all over her, feeling her up and just touching her. He took special care with her ass, squeezing and rubbing it.

“Fuck me,” he groaned. “You want it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Her eyes darkened. She took him in her hand and sank down on him, letting out a moan. His breath hitched at the sensation of her warmth and she smirked at him, amused.

Haymitch wondered if she had done this often in the months that they did not meet and the thought drove him mad with jealousy.

His eyes flew open when she started fucking him, bobbing up and down. The sight of her riding him was breath taking. He hoped he could last inside of her for as long as he could because he didn’t want this to be over so soon.

His fingers gripped her hips. He was sure it would leave marks but it was nothing she wouldn’t be able to hide.

“Haymitch, Haymitch,” she mumbled, lost in the sensation. “Oh, god.”

She rolled her hips around him and his fingers on her hips clenched in response. Haymitch raised his head off the pillow slightly to see himself buried deep inside of her. He let his head fall back, a loud groan ripped from his lips.

He tried to control her pace, wanting to make it last for both of them but she would have none of it. Instead, she took one of his hands from her hip and directed it to her clit.

“Play with it,” she directed.

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he grumbled but this was so good.

She made him feel so good and he wanted to make her feel the same so he did as he was told. This time, he kept his eyes fixed on her as he roughly thumbed her clit. He watched her continue to rock herself on him.

Effie was panting hard and he knew she was close. It wouldn’t be long for her now. Her walls tightened around him and she let out a moan, breathing his name before she slumped on his chest, whimpering incoherently about how good it was.

But he wasn’t finished.

He brushed the damp hair away from her cheeks and kissed her lips, amused by her reaction. Then he flipped her over. She lay on her back, happy and satisfied. She watched him, blue eyes bright in the dark room, and she encouraged him. At his insistence that it would help him finish, she whispered dirty things she would never repeat elsewhere.

He fucked her hard, thrusting deeper into her over and over again until he collapsed on top of her.

“Was it good?” she whispered.

He could only nod.

“We need to do this more often,” he mumbled, throwing an arm around her torso and pulled her against him.

Effie pulled the covers around them and snuggled up to him.

“You said I don’t know what I’m dealing with,” she broke the silence after a while, resting her hand on his chest.

Haymitch exhaled. He wasn’t surprised that after the lull in conversation, it had circled back to the very reason why she was here in the first place. Effie would never let things go as easily.

“Yeah, you don’t,” he told her, curling his fingers over her hand. His other hand reached out to the nightstand for his flask. “It started… Fuck, Effs, I ain’t supposed to be talking ‘bout this.”

“I know,” she nodded. “You’re leading this investigation, are you not? You’re still team lead even if you’ll have to report to …”

“Heavensbee,” he answered without a thought.

Haymitch did not see the spark in her eyes.

“As the team lead, you can choose the kind of information to disseminate and the kind to keep close to your chest. Please, Haymitch, I just want to know the gist of it. It’s not fair that you keep taking cases from me just because it’s out of my jurisdiction.”

“Maybe I’m doing it on purpose,” he teased, “so I’ll get to see more of you.”

“Really?” she pushed herself up to her elbow, looking at him with something akin to hope.

“Look, sweetheart,” he sighed, “this case of yours is not an isolated incident. It goes deeper, alright. We’ve cause to believe that it dates back years, decades even. It’s not just two children, there are others across Panem. So many more…. These killings’ been goin’ on for ‘bout 75 years, at an estimate.”

She stilled in his arms. “75 years…. How many children?” she breathed out. The pupils of her eyes were dilated and she was tensed. “How many children, Haymitch?”  

“An estimate of a thousand seven hundred,” he answered. The numbers had been at the forefront of his mind for weeks now. Thousands of children dead and countless parents waiting to have closure, to know what had happened to their children and waiting for justice to be served. “We’ve never seen such mass murder of children in our history before. This case is huge, sweetheart. You understand why the FBI’s taking over, yeah?”

“I do,” she nodded. “But… Can’t you keep me in the loop? My people in the precinct could help. You could use the extra help.”

“I don’t want you on this case. It ain’t safe.”

“It’s my job. I know the risk, and 75 years, Haymitch… You think whoever’s murdering these children is still alive?”

“I think it’s a cult. The FBI ain’t buying it yet. But I think it’s a cult or something, some kind of fucking perverse practice that runs in a family, father to son, that sort of thing. You’ve got a soft spot for children, Effie. You’ll take the cases personally and we don’t do personal. It’s best if you leave this up to us and don’t you repeat what I’ve told you to anyone, sweetheart. I’ll take you in for obstruction of justice.”

“And if I conduct an investigation on my own, in my own spare time?”

“You shouldn’t have told me that,” he frowned. “What I don’t know, I can’t stop you.”

Effie was quiet. He thought the conversation was over so he closed his eyes. He ran his fingers absent-mindedly through her hair, playing with her curls and eventually, he fell asleep.

Haymitch woke up sometime later, fully rested, which was a rare thing in itself. The bed was empty and he was alone.

“Effie?” he called out walking out of the bedroom. “Sweetheart?”

He scowled unhappily when there was no answer. Haymitch paused.

Why did he think she would still be here? It was foolish.

If this had been her house, he would have left before she woke up. He had no idea what to call them but whatever was going on between them was nothing exclusive. At least, they had said nothing to imply it but ever since he started sleeping with her, other women did not interest him.

Her red dress was gone, which meant she was gone.

Haymitch bit his lips and spun back into his room, snatching the abandoned bottle from yesterday as he moved along. As he sat at the edge of the bed, gulping down his drink, his eyes drifted to the bed side drawer.

He tilted his head in puzzlement.

Something was not right. When he had kept the file in the drawer the night before, a few minutes before she arrived, he had not fully closed the drawer. But it was now.

Haymitch pulled it open and breathed a sigh of relief to see that the file was still there. At least, she had not stolen in but she certainly had gone through the file judging from the placement of the papers inside.

He only had one possible explanation for what had happened. Effie must have taken photos of the contents with her phone before she left. And if he knew her, he knew she would use it to wrestle her way into the investigation. She was resourceful and she knew people.

Haymitch covered his face with his hands to muffle his scream of frustration. She played him. Had she meant to manipulate him all along? Was it her plan to lull him, distract him and fuck his brains out and then steal confidential information of an ongoing investigation?

A part of him knew the answer to that. Effie would never do that to him. She was determined but she wouldn’t screw him over. She wasn’t the kind.

She must have thought to steal the information at the very last minute before she left.

His phone rang and Haymitch snatched it from the bed side drawer. “Agent Abernathy.”

“Abernathy,” Plutarch greeted him. “I need you to be in my office as soon as possible, and by that, I really mean in the next half an hour. There’s a Detective Trinket here in my office and I think you’ll like to hear her proposal.”

Haymitch ended the call, cradling his head in his hands. He was screwed. He should never have told her he reported to Plutarch Heavensbee. It slipped his tongue and now there was nothing he could do. He wouldn’t let her into the investigation and she had gone straight to his superior, no doubt with all the information he had told her the night before and the ones she read from the file.

He knew what would happen once he stepped into Plutarch’s office.

Since she was a detective herself with her own set of skills, the FBI would bring her on board and keep an eye on her rather than risk having her telling anyone else at her precinct about what she knew, while _he_ would face disciplinary action after the conclusion of the case for not keeping his mouth shut.

Effie Trinket was a minx and certainly knew how to get on his every last nerves, but still, a part of him was looking forward to the day when the FBI would officially bring her on their team.

Haymitch grabbed his phone again and did something he seldom did - he texted her.

“Good job, sweetheart. Well played.”


End file.
